


If I Didn't Love Him, I Would Hate Him

by BastardSirius



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: First War with Voldemort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-08
Updated: 2017-01-08
Packaged: 2018-09-15 18:54:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9251279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BastardSirius/pseuds/BastardSirius
Summary: Regulus gives information to Remus regarding plans of Voldemort's that he does not agree with.





	

**Author's Note:**

> The title and quote in the fic is from Catullus' 14th Carmen.

**9th of April, 1979**

 

Remus took a deep breath and ran his hands through his shaggy hair, swiping it away from his sweaty forehead. He looked over at Regulus who was propped up on his elbows, back resting gently against the pillow. He thought about how if it had been Sirius, they would have either been touching still, or Sirius would be smoking.

When the light hit him just right, Regulus looked just like Sirius. When they had first started, Remus had told himself that that wasn’t the reason they were doing this, but he knew that it was. Regulus was attractive in his own right and their conversations could be very entertaining, but Remus always saw Sirius as soon as they touched. It was an almost pleasant shift, whenever it happened. One moment they would be discussing the pack expected to be targeted this month, or maybe a new book that one had just finished, and the next moment they would be kissing and moaning into each other’s mouths, completely oblivious to any thoughts or concerns. They would be transported into a realm of no conscious thought and desperate touches, skin begging to touch skin.

Even the aftermath was not awkward, somehow. They showered, rested for a bit if they had the time, then went their own ways, ready to meet again when necessary.

It hadn’t always been that way. The first time they had touched each other, Regulus had been rather childish about it. _Just like Sirius would have been,_ Remus thought _._

~

**20th of December, 1978**

 

Regulus shifted uncomfortably in his seat, not bothering to stop himself as he knew his robes hid his body well enough that nobody would notice. He took another sip of his Butterbeer and glanced around quickly. He wasn’t here yet. It could be a she, he supposed, Dumbledore had not specified, but for some reason he expected a man.

“Butterbeer seems a bit of an odd choice, considering,” came a voice behind him. He was startled but true to his upbringing, he did not let it show. He turned to face the owner of the voice and couldn’t help but give a small smile.

“Of course,” he said, “They would send the werewolf.”

Remus looked amused and not at all taken aback as Regulus would have expected by being called out, in public no less. “You seem to have information about my area of expertise,” Remus offered as an explanation, and sat down with a mysterious smile. He waved at the bartender and got a nod in return. He must be a regular to not need to speak out his order. Within a minute, a Firewhiskey glass was in front of them both.

Regulus raised an eyebrow. “I have a drink already, and don’t think I will stay long enough to need a second.” He was actually on his third already. Nervous, he had arrived early, thinking it too suspicious for both of them to come into the bar at the same time. They were in Romania, far from most people they knew, but you could never be too sure.

“Fourth you mean,” Remus said casually and took a sip of his whiskey with a smile. Regulus wasn’t surprised that he knew — he probably had come early as well — but he _was_ surprised at how different Lupin was acting compared to the shy boy he knew from school. The blushing dirty-blond who could never speak loudly even at his friends seemed now as smooth and confident as Potter or Sirius. He shrugged, not bothering to reply.

“It’s easiest if we’re brief, as you said,” Remus said, “But we do need to confirm certain phrases and abbreviations at some point. To make future meetings easier. Even if we were seen now, one meeting or two would not mean much for either of our sides. But soon enough we will have to be more careful.”

“See this continuing for a long time, do you, wolf?”

“I’d rather be prepared than not,” he replied, amused again. Why was being called a dark creature amusing this bastard, Regulus wondered.

“I haven’t promised anything,” Regulus said, hoping his voice wasn’t wavering. This was true. He had approached Dumbledore mentioning that he had a piece of information that could be useful about Voldemort’s activity in Turkey. He was glad the old man knew as much as he did, since that had been enough to explain what kind of information he held. Turkey was where Voldemort had been recruiting giants recently.

“You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t want to be,” Remus said gently. Regulus wondered if he had been sent because of his calm demeanor. Spies must get fidgety and scared often, so Lupin would be a good choice to calm the nerves. Not that he was a _spy_. He just wanted to stop one thing, not take down the Dark Lord.

“I don’t know about codes or abbreviations but Turkey — that is long done. That was just to make the old man understand what _kind_ of knowledge I wanted to share.”

Remus nodded. “I know.” Of course he did. Was there anything the Order didn’t know, Regulus wondered, and the other way around? For all the secrecy, both sides seemed to know everything of matter sometimes.

“Kiruna,” Regulus said quietly, glancing around to room to make sure they were still secluded, “There’s a pack.”

“Yes,” Remus agreed, his voice not betraying whatever he may feel about the mention of them. He had been to Sweden a few months prior and met them. They were a calm pack, oddly enough. They lived secluded lives, surrounded by beautiful views and white snow in winter. There weren’t many people that lived there and those who did knew about them, even the muggles. Not _who_ they were precisely of course, but they knew to not go out on full moons. The pack was proud that nobody had been turned by them in over a decade. Their newer members had found them after they turned.

“Somebody was sent to recruit.”

Remus nodded but did not comment. He hadn’t heard of anybody coming to them, but he also had not seen them in a while. Would they accept? He couldn’t imagine the peaceful pack wanting to leave their home and fight an unknown wizard’s battle. Their lives were as good as a werewolf’s got, they had nothing for Voldemort to tempt them with.

“They refused,” Regulus explained when he got no response from Remus.

“Ah,” Remus said, understanding at last. He took a long sip of his drink and Regulus wondered how often Remus drank if Firewhiskey seemed to go down his throat like water.

“Thirteenth,” Regulus said and finished his Butterbeer. He looked at the Firewhiskey glass in front of him, but did not touch it.

“Don’t say dates out loud like that next time,” Remus said, nodding and getting up, “Some people prefer just saying ‘next’ or something like that. I have a friend who quotes Catullus to me.  But I have always been a simple man, I prefer sneaking it into the conversation. Asking how many drinks I’ve had last time we were out, or if Arabella still lives on fifth or seventh,…” He let his voice trail off. He said he was a simple man but his silky voice, straight back and casual mention of Latin poetry betrayed him.

“Ni te plus oculis meis amarem, iucundissime Calve, munere isto,” Regulus said with a smile, not getting up. He knew even without a mirror that his smile reached his eyes because he was entertained. His mother would have scowled at him for grinning like a child.

“Wrong by one day,” Remus replied too quickly for Regulus’ liking.

“I’ll brush up on my poetry for you,” Regulus said, still not looking at the older boy. Remus left quietly, not bothering to thank him. He had work to do. He had to somehow arrange the rescue of a pack from slaughter the morning after the full moon.

They found that their meetings were getting longer rather than shorter as predicted before by Remus. They would talk about any subject they could (that did not reveal their current life or whereabouts). Their conversations didn’t flow as two friends’ might, but they eventually relaxed around each other after the fourth meeting. Often, they found themselves drinking and chatting or sitting in content silence, hours after their meeting should have ended.

~

**13th of February, 1979**

 

“I didn’t know if it would be you that came,” Regulus said instead of a greeting when Remus walked into the house they had picked to meet at every three meetings. They had created a pattern that was inconsistent enough to hopefully throw people off. Regulus often wondered if they needed to bother with all this since there would be no Death Eaters at most coffee shops in downtown London.

Remus smiled. He looked tired, shoulders slightly dropped but he was doing his best to stand straight. He walked over with a slight limp and sat down on the nearest chair.

“I don’t have news this time,” Regulus said quickly, finding himself unexpectedly ashamed of the fact, as if he had missed a homework assignment.

“You won’t always,” Remus said reassuringly, and Regulus could hear the hoarseness in his voice. Side-effect of howling, perhaps? He didn’t know. He didn’t ask Remus about the transformation, or anything personal for that matter. He found he wanted to.

“End of the meeting then?” he said with a hint of a laugh in his voice. Remus’ smile grew. Regulus was only a year younger than them but he seemed so very young to the werewolf. He was just like a younger Sirius, more than either boy would ever admit.

“If you want,” he said softly.

“What else would we do?” Regulus asked, “I won’t give you anything that is not relevant to what we have been doing so far.” All of Regulus’ intel so far had been regarding dark creature slaughters or torture. The latest had been an experimentation building with house elves in it.

“I understand,” Remus said. Regulus had the impression that he wanted to know more, but didn’t dare ask.

“I still believe in his cause,” Regulus said, harsher than he had intended, and got up to sit farther away from Remus.

The werewolf raised an eyebrow and looked at Regulus, pensive, until finally speaking. “I know,” he said and started coughing before he could say more. Regulus instinctively moved closer, then saw blood on the werewolf’s hand that he had been coughing into. He cast a quick _Tergeo_ before noticing that the werewolf’s trousers had blood on them as well. That one didn’t look like it was from coughing, it looked like a wound’s bleeding was soaking through.

Remus noticed him staring and looked down at his leg. “Ah, I see it has happened again. Give me a moment.” He muttered a few spells Regulus didn’t recognize, then turned to the younger boy with a pained smile. “It is not bleeding any more, don’t worry.”

“I wasn’t worried,” Regulus shot back instantly.

“We could chat, if you want,” Remus offered.

“Chat?”

“I’ve been quite starved for some conversation, I must admit,” Remus said with a sigh, gulping every now and again because his throat hurt, “Not a lot of casual conversing in my line of work.”

“What would we talk about?” Whenever they did talk, it had always happened organically and almost always with the help of alcohol. They had never met to just talk.

“Anything. Nothing.” He paused. “You quoted Catullus to me a few times. Do you speak Latin, or did you just memorize?”

“All Blacks do,” Regulus said matter-of-factly, “How could you not know?”

“Your brother doesn’t like talking about his upbringing much, and I respect his wishes.”

A thought occurred to Regulus all of a sudden and his head snapped up. “Does he know that you’re here? With me?”

Remus shook his head. “We can’t, you must know that as well as I do. I can’t tell him what I am doing.”

“That must be difficult.”

Remus did not reply.

“I do speak Latin, as well as French,” Regulus continued, considering the conversation an olive-branch. What he was making up for, he didn’t know. “Although I have always rather despised Latin. I think the only reason I recall Catullus is because Sirius and I used to read his more humorous poems whenever we were asked to study Latin.”

“He does tend to talk about whores a lot,” Remus replied, chuckling.

They were silent for a few minutes, and Regulus found himself getting nervous again. Remus had that effect on him, even more so than betraying his Lord. Knowing that he was talking with Sirius’ boyfriend, inches away from him, gave him a strange thrill. Sirius had always been possessive of Remus, even before they had gotten together. Regulus recalled more than one instance he had seen where his brother had run off a student who had been chatting with Remus or standing too close to him for Sirius’ liking.

And yet here Regulus was, within reaching distance of something Sirius would not let anybody get close to. Something that was _his_. Sirius had never cared about possessions which made him difficult to annoy as a child, but he cared about his friends. Anybody who so much as looked at the Marauders the wrong way had to deal with Sirius Black’s wrath. And that protection was the strongest for Remus. It had always been. Regulus wondered what his brother would think of this… friendship growing between the two of them. He wouldn’t be pleased. The thought made Regulus smile.

“Let’s drink,” he said to Remus and conjured up two bottles of wine. At Remus’ raised eyebrow, he said, “Don’t worry, they are from my own cellar.”

“I was more curious why we are drinking,” Remus replied in that bloody amused tone again and Regulus almost scowled.

“Why not?” he asked instead and grinned. He knew his grin was identical to Sirius’. He wondered if Remus knew too.

Remus chuckled, and Regulus absent-mindedly got glasses and started pouring wine but his gaze was fixed on the werewolf across from him. He could see why his brother wanted him. There was a certain elegance even to his hunched shoulders and weakened posture. He looked fragile but strong at the same time. He was not a damsel in distress, yet not an aggressive boy like Sirius himself either. Remus licked his lips and Regulus wondered where those lips had been, maybe even hours before he had arrived. Had he woken up that morning and been taken care of by Sirius, both for his injuries and other needs?

Regulus and Remus drank and when they got up to get their third and fourth glasses respectively, Regulus suggested they sit down on the couch as it is more comfortable than the chairs they had been using. Remus paused and considered it for a moment before moving towards the couch wordlessly. His expression was indecipherable again and Regulus’ thoughts drifted to his brother once more. Was that part of the Remus Lupin charm? The mystery? Seven years of sharing a dormitory and a year of living together after that would have revealed most people’s secrets, but not Remus’. Sirius must love the challenge.

He would bring up Sirius sometimes, but Remus was always quick to change the subject. He would not make it obvious but he would get an odd look in his eyes and answer curtly before moving on to the next subject. Regulus knew that Remus must be thinking of Sirius a lot, especially in his presence. Nobody, not even their mother, could resist that when he was around. They looked too similar, they had left too many scars on each other for that not to happen.

When they met, did Remus think of the last time Regulus and Sirius had fought on their last Hogwarts train ride, covered in blood and bruises? Or did he remember the rampage Sirius had went on after Regulus had told him he had joined the Death Eaters?

Regulus would probably never know. He looked at the werewolf who was quietly drinking his wine and looking into the distance as if he were an old man resting on a chair on his veranda. He was still weak from the full moon and his hand twitched slightly on his next sip, causing a tiny drop of wine to spill onto his lips, and stop just on the edge of his lower lip line.

Regulus closed the distance between them and kissed the wine off of the werewolf’s lips. Remus did not react other than putting his glass down. Regulus let his own glass fall onto the floor.

“If it’s from your cellar, that must be expensive wine you are wasting,” Remus said casually, but his breath was faster and Regulus knew because his own breath was mixed with the werewolf’s, so little was the distance between their lips.

That’s all it took for Regulus to know that Remus wanted this too. The subtle touches, the smiles, the laughs he often got out of the older boy — they hadn’t been friendly, they had been leading up to _this_. Part of him was disappointed. He had thought of Remus as the loyal puppy to his brother that he would have to slowly corrupt. The fact that he was willing put him off a little bit, but not enough to not press their lips together again.

“What are you doing?” the werewolf asked, not moving away.

Regulus shifted both of them into a more comfortable angle. It would have been easier to get on top of Remus but that position seemed too feminine for his liking. This was better, side by side. If anybody was going to be the woman, it wasn’t going to be him. Not that he minded getting fucked but this wasn’t about sex. At least not just sex. This was about power and taking what was Sirius’.

“You’re smarter than that,” Regulus said in a breathy voice and kissed Remus again, this time more forceful and pulling him in, forcing his way into the werewolf’s mouth with his tongue. Remus was hesitant but responded lightly. He did spread his lips and put some pressure on his side, but he wasn’t kissing back with passion or lust, regardless of the bulge in his trousers that Regulus could feel with his right hand. Remus didn’t even let out a moan when the black-haired boy stroked his erection through his trousers.

 _Fine,_ Regulus thought, _If you don’t want to kiss._ “Your trousers. They’re bloody,” he said after pulling away from the kiss, trying to keep his breathing slow. He was tempted to take them off himself but the more Remus seemed to enjoy this, the less powerful he felt. He did want Remus to enjoy this - he would make sure he came loudly and screaming Regulus’ name - but he didn’t want it to be easy. “Take them off,” he commanded.

Again, Remus stopped to consider, seemingly searching Regulus’ eyes for an answer.

“Take them off, werewolf, are you deaf?”

Before long, they were both naked, grabbing at each other and licking and biting. They spared only a few words as they made their way towards the unused bedroom and sat on the bed without sheets.

Every time Regulus bit his skin hard enough for the werewolf to respond audibly (usually with a hiss or moan), he wondered if this is what it sounded like when they were with Sirius. Was Remus always this quiet? Or did he shower Sirius with the praise that his brother always craved?

Remus had laid down on his back without protest, and the dark-haired boy couldn’t help but be disappointed. He was sure this was not how his brother would fuck. They must wrestle and grab at each other with much more force, he thought, frowning. He knew he was leaving bruises on the already injured werewolf but he was not getting back any. He wasn’t sure why but he needed to have Remus the way his brother did.

He squeezed on Remus’ injured thigh. That finally got a response from the dirty-blond. “Fuck me,” he hissed and squeezed his eyes shut in pain.

“That’s the idea,” Regulus drawled, grinning like the cat that got the cream, and got fully on top of Remus, biting and scratching against his skin as he moved up. When he was at eye-level with the werewolf, he was surprised to see how calm he looked. He must be in terrible pain, Regulus was sure, but his face was masked into the calm one of a Professor observing an exam. Almost bored.

Regulus felt himself get angry again. He needed more. He was as hard as a rock and so was Remus, but he didn’t want a rag doll — Sirius Black could never enjoy sex like this — he wanted the passion that the werewolf must have in him. He’d seen that spark in his eyes before, he knew Remus had it in him. He must. Suddenly, he thought about what day it was.

“It’s the day after the full moon,” he told Remus, as if he were not aware. The werewolf laughed.

“I’d noticed,” he said dryly.

“Is that why…” Regulus started but didn’t finish.

“I _am_ tired, if that’s what you mean,” Remus said softly. Comforting, soft, calm — _Damn this man_ , Regulus thought. Remus reached out and brushed back part of Regulus’ bangs.

Another thought occurred to Regulus. Maybe Remus was only letting him do this because he _was_ weak tonight. Because his resolve was weakened enough to cheat on his brother, to respond to Regulus’ touch. As calm as his expression was, Remus’ cheeks were flushed and lips parted and swollen. He wanted this, and was giving in.

Regulus watched Remus closely as he supported himself on one arm and let his other arm explore Remus’ chest. He listened eagerly as Remus gasped when he touched or kissed certain spots. He tried to remember what made him react the most. Kisses and licks on the neck seemed to draw a big moan, as well as pinching of his nipples. He didn’t seem to care for his lips or tongue on his nipples though, oddly enough. Lowering himself, Regulus bit under Remus’ ribcage and got such a loud moan that he paused to see if the werewolf was in more pain than before. But Remus was staring down at him, panting, eyes glistening with lust.

Regulus stroked Remus’ cock with the back of his fingers, getting rewarded with a stifled moan and his grin grew wider. Remus wanted him. A lot, judging by the desperate grinding of his hips that had just started and labored breath.

He considered for a moment to not touch Remus at all. He knew the other boy was horny enough to let him fuck him without giving anything in return except for the grinding of Regulus’ skin against his cock. But that wouldn’t be enough. He wanted Remus to shout out his name and come. He wanted to take from Remus what he assumed his brother had been the only taker of, at least since they had been sixteen and him fifteen.

He placed himself between Remus’ legs which spread willingly. He licked along Remus’ shaft which caused the other boy to put his hand into his mouth, stifling whatever sound may have come out.

“No,” Regulus said simply, “I want to hear you.” He took Remus’ cock’s head in his mouth and played with it with his tongue and gave it a few gentle sucks. The werewolf was obedient and had taken his hand from between his teeth and was panting and moaning.

“Words,” Regulus commanded before taking almost all of Remus into his mouth and sucking as hard as he could while licking the bottom of the werewolf’s shaft.

“Yes,” Remus gasped as Regulus bobbed up and down, “Feels so good.” He put one hand in Regulus’ locks and held onto his hair as his head moved.

Soon, Remus was moaning and when Regulus took him out of his mouth, Remus started grinding his cock against his neck or face, whatever skin he could reach. Regulus gave a small chuckle.

“Are you going to come?”

“Yes,” Remus hissed and Regulus stared got up, placing himself once again on top of the boy, knees on Remus’ sides. Remus groaned at the loss of contact and tried to regain it as Regulus’ body lowered on top of his.

Regulus watched Remus’ face as he rubbed himself against Regulus’ body. His eyes were rolled back and his breathing was even more labored than before. He held the mattress underneath so roughly his knuckles were white. _What a beautiful sight_ , he found himself thinking, once again understanding why his brother wanted the poor, skinny werewolf.

He lowered himself enough to whisper into Remus’ ear: “Not yet.” As if a spell had been cast, Remus stopped himself. Regulus got the distinct impression that they played master-and-puppy often with his brother. Remus was too ready for orders for it to be otherwise.

The werewolf licked his lips and looked at Regulus expectantly. Regulus reached out for his wand which had fallen from the bed and cast two spells. Remus’ eyebrows shot up and Regulus felt immense satisfaction at finally surprising the boy. His brother didn’t use magic to prepare him, he surmised, although he should not have been surprised. Any chance to act more like a muggle, more like a rebel. He would have to remember that for the next time, and not use a spell.

But now, now he found himself with little patience as Remus put his knees up and spread himself wider, inviting Regulus. He thought about how his brother was a man of action, how he would not have hesitated for a second at a time like this. He pushed the tip of his cock into the werewolf and heard a delightful noise; half-whine, half-growl.

Unable to hold himself back any longer, even for the amusing noises the werewolf was making, Regulus buried his face in Remus’ neck and swiftly entered him. In less than a minute, he was fucking him fast and hard, almost as if he were wanking and not having sex with a person. Remus didn’t complain. In fact, he was making those delightful noises again and pushing his hips upwards to meet Regulus’ thrusts.

Regulus felt Remus’ cock harden further and knew that the boy would come soon, without even touching himself. He felt pride again at how badly the werewolf wanted him, how easily he had taken Sirius’ favorite toy.

He paused. “Say my name,” he whispered, then started sucking on Remus’ neck, getting another moan.

“Wh-What?” Remus panted between thrusts.

“Say my name when you come,” Regulus clarified, “I know you will any second now. Say my name.”

Remus gulped and Regulus licked his Adam’s apple before going back to working on his neck, trying to leave as many bite marks as he could for his brother to see when his precious wolf went back home.

When Remus didn’t make another sound - or come - for a few more seconds Regulus got back up, still thrusting as he looked down at the werewolf. Remus stared back at him with an almost confused face, expression only changing when, every few thrusts, Regulus hit a particularly good spot and Remus’ eyes rolled back.

“Come,” Regulus urged, annoyed at his own body for being so close to coming. He had to make Remus come before he could. He had to. He had to see those eyes roll back and mouth open, shouting his name, Regulus’ cock buried deep in him as his release took over.

Remus reached out and started stroking himself. Regulus thought about stopping him but didn’t bother. He was too close to slow Remus down now.

After a few strokes, Remus blurted out “Regulus,” then closed his eyes shut and cried out as he orgasmed. Regulus felt him tighten around his cock and cursed out loud at the amazing sensation. He would have been annoyed by the sticky wetness on his chest - and in the back of his mind, he was - but he was too transfixed, staring at the werewolf’s blissful expression. He sped up and his own orgasm came shortly after, before Remus’ breathing had even slowed.

Regulus didn’t bother getting off of Remus but did reach out for his wand again and muttered a cleaning spell. He let his face get buried in Remus’ nape again and grinned. This was what he had been looking forward to the most. Sex, sex he could get anywhere - albeit not with his brother’s lover, but still. But he was looking forward to this conversation more than he realized.

“What will Sirius say, when he sees all this,” he asked, propping himself up on his hands and gesturing towards Remus’ neck and shoulders.

“He won’t,” Remus said softly and looked away.

“You’re not going back there after this?” Regulus asked. It was his turn to sound amused. It made sense, he supposed, Remus would probably hide until his betrayal was not apparent on his skin. Or perhaps he would use glamor charms.

“We don’t live together any more,” Remus said with an odd smile and pushed Regulus off of him easily. It occurred to Regulus that even in his post-full moon state the older boy was much stronger than him.

“Oh,” Regulus said but did not ask further. His grin dropped and he found himself more disappointed than he should have been. He hadn’t known that the two had broken up.

“Is that a problem?” Remus asked with a raised eyebrow as he put his clothes back on.

“Don’t be daft,” Regulus drawled and started putting on his clothes as well, “How is that relevant?”

Remus smiled but didn’t comment. Regulus wondered, not for the first time, if he was a Legilimens.

~

**9th of April, 1979**

 

 _Childish indeed,_ Remus repeated to himself, _He thought he could get closer to his brother through me. Maybe he didn’t even think it consciously._

After their second time — which had been rougher than the first, but with more of a response on Remus’ part and bruises and scratches on both boys — Remus had asked Regulus if he hated Sirius. The young boy had shrugged and said “If I didn’t love him, I would hate him.” Remus knew the feeling. That was exactly what he had thought after The Prank.

As the months drew on and they started to get closer, Regulus brought up Sirius less and their conversations flowed easier. Regulus started opening up in a surprising way. He would only say a few words at a time, but he was sharing much more than he had bargained for. He told Remus about the Black household after Sirius had left, and before. How some Slytherins were in that house because they were a bit too keen to be Ravenclaws, but didn’t fit in with the other Slytherins at all. Who his first kiss had been, and his favorite school subject.

Remus listened, mostly, and sometimes provided small bits of information about himself. Those were Regulus’ favorite conversations. Knowing how Remus’ parents had met had made him feel happy somehow, especially when Remus had remarked that he had never told anyone that before.

Tonight, before they had had sex, Regulus had talked about muggles being tortured. He said he had refused to take part, as he saw no point. He understood wizards being superior but if a kid tortured a cat he could get punished, how was this any different? Remus heard the disgust in his voice and knew that the things he was seeing were breaking Regulus’ heart. Despite having grown up in that terrible household, despite being a Slytherin and later Death Eater, he still was a boy that deep down did not want to hurt. He did believe in bloodline purity, of that much Remus was convinced, but nothing else. He figured Regulus’ resolve was enough to marry a pureblood, but not kill a muggle-born or muggle.

Regulus was staring outside the window and took a deep sigh. His troubled expression told Remus that he was thinking of what he had seen last night again. Remus moved himself slightly closer to the raven-haired boy, not quite touching.

“It seems more evil than right, these days,” Regulus whispered.

This subject had come up before. Regulus had talked about being unsure about Voldemort’s goals. He would retreat back shortly after, reciting how bloodlines were important and must be protected, and Remus would not push him. He knew Regulus wanted to turn, but he also knew that pushing him would push him straight back to what he knew; Voldemort. The Order was new and confusing and full of mixed-blood and non-Slytherins. Even without having met most of them, Regulus must know that he would be shunned, at least initially. It wasn’t a comfortable move to make.

“How did that horrible woman have two good sons?” the werewolf found himself saying. Having heard enough stories about the woman, it genuinely surprised him that as damaged as the two boys were, they both had good hearts.

Regulus was startled but turned to Remus with a smile.

“I think we became that way to spite her, sometimes. After all, don’t kids always build their life around pleasing or spiting their parents? Trying to be them or be so unlike them that they become a caricature? Sirius was so wrapped up in rebellion against all that is prejudiced and pureblood and following rules and being proper that he, well, he stumbled upon open-mindedness and believing in something from the depths of his heart instead of following rules that were written on meaningless paper or minds.”

“You have thought a lot about this, I gather.”

“I have,” Regulus agreed quietly, “I had the same parents that Sirius did. Of course I’ve thought about this. But I was — I was always the mediator. I wonder what would have happened if I had been born first, if I hadn’t had to be in the middle of their fights. If I hadn’t had to mediate and worry about keeping the family together. By the time Sirius left and I could think of myself, well… It was too late.”

Remus knew that Regulus had joined Voldemort in their final year, so less than a year after Sirius had left Grimmauld Place. He looked at the boy next to him, and leaned in to give his shoulder a soft kiss.

He wondered, too, what would have happened then.

Surprising himself and Regulus both, Remus pulled the younger boy into his arms and they embraced for a while, listening to each other’s breathing and enjoying the warmth. Remus rubbed his nose against the raven locks and thought of all the small differences between him and his brother. Their skin and sweat smelled very similar, but their hair was very different. As he drew in Regulus’ scent he wondered if the citrus smell was soap or cologne.

“He will lose,” Regulus said suddenly.

“He?” Remus asked, pulling his head off of Regulus’.

“Voldemort,” Regulus confirmed, “He will lose.” His voice wasn’t shaking and Remus wondered what he knew that made him say that with such certainty.

Regulus did not make it to their next meeting, nor sent any messages for over a month. One day at an Order meeting his death was announced and as James consoled Sirius in the back of the room, Remus stared straight at Dumbledore and wondered what had happened. Many scenarios ran through his head but he knew that he would never get an answer.

He hoped Regulus had not suffered.


End file.
